Most of the features we publish are expert advice pieces. A fair bit of the submissions that land on my desk are dismissed for a variety of reasons. Then, something comes along that makes me pause. This is one such piece.
As an editor, I appreciate how well it was written. As a firefighter, I appreciate his sense of duty to serve. As an old guy, I appreciate his honesty and naiveness. And again as an editor, I appreciate that an inexperienced, fresh voice can do a lot to drive conversation in the firefighting community — I hope you do as well.
By Casey Pease
“It’s hot — God, it’s hot,” I thought as the sweat from my brow dripped down my face, leaving clean streaks from my soot-covered forehead down along my cheeks.
I gripped the hose tighter and let my strength become one with my partner’s. The water flowed from the hose, like a dragon breathing fire as it fought against its greatest enemy.
I am a volunteer firefighter. I’m a part of a brotherhood and a sisterhood. I’m a part of a service that sometimes people forget is there, but in times of need — we come.
Where I live there are no on-duty firefighters, no paid personnel, just men and women who come to the call when we are needed.
I’m a first-generation firefighter. My father never desired to work in the fire service, my grandfather never did and neither did my great grandfather. Yet as a member of the fire department in my small rural town, I am among some of the bravest family I have.
I’ve been asked by many people, “What motivated you to become a volunteer firefighter?”
That call
There is one call in particular that clearly portrays my ambitions for volunteering. I was headed home from staying after school on a day when the sky had a pinkish tint and the air was cool.
As I drove, the piercing sound of my pager took me away from my daydreams and brought me back to reality. “Attention. Worthington units respond to Thayer Hill Road for a confirmed box alarm.”
This was it. The words “box alarm” shot adrenaline into my body, and I knew that where I was headed, there would be fire. My head was filled with one thought, “Breathe Casey, this is what you’ve been training for, breathe.”
I arrived at the station, grabbed my helmet, rushed into my turnout gear and climbed inside Engine 1, heart beating, mind focused. “Northampton control, Worthington Engine 1 responding.”
The smoke billowed up into the air, visible from miles away. I jumped off the truck, my eyes immediately making contact with the fiery demon. “Bring it!” I said out loud as I connected the hose line to the tanker.
I had this feeling of great satisfaction as the water rained on the fire, slowly putting the devil to sleep. The heat was unbearable, but I and my fellow volunteers were determined to win this battle.
And we did. All that was left was a blackened, crusted outline of what used to be a barn, but we were able to save the house. I sat down on the ground that was wet with a soot-water mix. I took off my fire jacket and drank a bottle of water — it tasted fantastic.
Truly worthwhile
As I sat there quenching my thirst a woman came over to me, her eyes filled with tears, and hugged me. “Thank you, God, thank you so much,” her voice shaking and sincere.
Yes, she had just lost half her property, but she was so thankful that we saved the other half.
So, that’s my motivation, the feeling I get when someone comes up to me during a structure fire, a car accident or even a false alarm, and thanks me. It makes me think, “Today I helped someone — today I did something truly worthwhile.”
I have spent almost two years volunteering with my department and it has taught me more about life than anything else. It has allowed me to build a stronger character. It has taught me to challenge myself, and it has taught me how to work with a team.
When you live in a small community like mine, you know that there aren’t many dangers or many calls for help. But whether it is five o’clock in the afternoon or five o’clock in the morning, when the call comes the soot-stained gear becomes my only barrier between my body and the deadly flames, and the hose becomes my guide through smoke and fire.
About the Author
Casey Pease has been a volunteer firefighter with the Worthington (Mass.) Fire Rescue Department for over two years. At 18 years old, he is a certified emergency medical responder and is training for his Firefighter I and II certifications. He will be attending the University of Massachusetts Amherst where he plans to study political science and community relations, as well as volunteer with the EMS program.